


Fleeting

by charcoalmink



Category: Tiger & Bunny
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-22
Updated: 2012-02-22
Packaged: 2017-10-31 14:34:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/345140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charcoalmink/pseuds/charcoalmink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What they have isn't what it was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fleeting

“Feels familiar, doesn’t it?” Kotetsu chuckled and reached for another beer. The label was elaborate and foreign, swiped from Barnaby’s seemingly-endless supply of, well, everything.

His partner made a non-committal sound of acknowledgment, fingers flying rapidly over his laptop. Occasionally, he would take a sip of his own drink, before returning to his research.

Kotetsu sighed and leaned back in his chair, averting his attention to the wide screen that expanded over the wall before them. Countless images and documents reflected back at him, words and scribbles alike beginning to merge into one. He’d examined them all closely when Barnaby had first shown him. Now though, he was beginning to suffer the first pangs of a headache. However, he felt guilty for it, as he’d promised his assistance for the evening.

Popping off the cap, he took a deep pull from the bottle, shivering as the chill slithered down his throat. He had a nice buzz going-- as evidenced by the several empty containers already littering his feet. He stole a glance at his companion, frowning when he could count the number of Barnaby’s empty bottles on one hand. Then his gaze slid upwards, scrutinizing the glint of the computer screen off the other’s glasses. His shoulders drooped as he took in the clenched jaw and furrowed brow. He felt a heavy, painful weight in his chest at the sight, feeling the very pity and sympathy he knew Barnaby would hate to know he was the recipient of.

“You should take a break,” Kotetsu suggested gently. He tapped the neck of Barnaby’s half-full glass with his own, a lighthearted ‘clink’ echoing faintly in the air. However, he received no response, save for a pause in the rhythmic tapping of the keyboard.

Kotetsu’s smile faded as he pulled away, allowing the other to continue his work. He’d try again in a few min--

“Ow,” he grunted, wincing as he lifted his hand to rub at his right shoulder. He heard the typing stop then, and the sound of shifting fabric as Barnaby turned to face him.

“You shouldn’t push yourself.” The blonde’s voice was quiet, though firm. Kotetsu shook his head and waved off the concern. “I’m fine. Just moved weirdly, is all.” He looked down, pulling at the rumpled edges of the bandages. They really needed to be redressed. It had been two days since the doctor had wrapped them, and he couldn’t do it himself at home.

His partner seemed to be following Kotetsu’s train of thought; standing, Barnaby closed his laptop and slid it onto the table. “I’ll be back with the first aid kit.” He turned to leave, but paused to shoot Kotetsu a sharp look. “Don’t do anything ill-advised while I’m gone,” he said sternly, before disappearing.

“Tch,” he snorted. Taking a swig of his beer, he slid his fingers idly through the condensation as he waited for Barnaby to return. “Ill-advised...” he muttered to himself, scowling. However, at the sound of returning footsteps, a small smile tugged at his lips.

“Move forward, please,” Barnaby instructed. He put the small, plastic box beside the empty bottles, pushing them off to the side. Kotetsu moved obediently, sliding forward in his seat so he was perched at the edge.

Barnaby was silent as he kneeled and leaned forward to peel off the medical tape, carefully unraveling the white gauze. Kotetsu seized the moment to stare, examining the other’s face and posture. His partner always seemed to have that expression-- one of concentration and focus and... _anger_. Perhaps not always directed at him (which was often enough, thank you) but at _something._ Kotetsu couldn’t relate, but he could understand. The weight on Barnaby’s shoulders must be incredible.  “Thank you,” he said sincerely, lifting his hand to the blonde’s narrow shoulder. Barnaby paused, fingers resting lightly on his chest, right over a throbbing, yellow-and-purple bruise. There a ripply, leathery section of flesh where it had clearly been burned. The green eyes flitted away, seemingly examining the wounds, though Kotetsu could see a softening of his expression.

“You were injured because of me. I should be thanking you.” Barnaby’s fingers were cool and careful as they passed over the wound. The palm of his hand pressed flat over his pectoral, where the largest bruise bloomed.

Kotetsu shivered. “Hey, I’m fine. I’m healing pretty well, wouldn’t you say?” He squeezed his partner’s shoulder in reassurance.

“Yes, you are.” Barnaby’s voice held a grave note, and he raised his eyes to look back up at Kotetsu sternly. “But if you hadn’t jumped in front of the blast in the first place, you wouldn’t be here.” He sighed and reached for a new roll of gauze. “Please don’t do that again. Allow me to handle my own battles.”

Kotetsu grit his teeth and he reached out, stopping the other’s movements. “We’re _partners_. They’re not just _your_ battles. They’re _ours_.”

Barnaby was silent, but he seemed to relent, as the tension seeped from his shoulders. Tolerant, but no less satisfied, Kotetsu backed away. He allowed his partner to stand and lean over him, gingerly wrapping the bandages around his chest.

“Please don’t strain yourself, as you did today. You will not heal properly otherwise.” Barnaby murmured as he pressed almost chest-to-chest with Kotetsu, arms slinging back to wind the gauze firmly.

“The girl was crying! I couldn’t just leave the cat up there, now could I?” He grinned slyly at the other, their noses just barely grazing. “Why? Worried about me?”

Green eyes closed for several seconds, before they stared back at him in exasperation. “Please stop teasing. You’re not very funny.”

Pouting, Kotetsu threw his arms behind Barnaby’s waist, pulling the slim man forward. The blonde squawked in indignation, catching himself quickly on the back of the chair so he wouldn’t land on Kotetsu’s injured side.

“I think I’m _very_ funny. However, _you’re_ not very cute when you’re always making that face,” Kotetsu said playfully.

Barnaby squirmed, trying to wrestle himself out of the awkward position without hurting his partner even further. His left knee was caught between Kotetsu’s thigh and the arm rest, while his other leg stretched out behind him.

“Do not call me cute-- and-- _let me go.”_ Barnaby dropped the gauze, a long, white trail falling from Kotetsu’s shoulder to the ground and rolling away. His partner only laughed, tightening his grip. “No, I don’t think I will,” he sang. Barnaby grimaced as he caught the smell of beer. Undoubtedly, he must too, but he hadn’t drank quite as much as his partner had.

“Are you _drunk?_ ” His nose wrinkled in distaste and he scowled fiercely at the brunette.

“No,” Kotetsu answered honestly. He was thinking clearly enough; though there was the familiar light-headed feeling he’d always enjoyed when on the verge of inebriation.

Sighing, Barnaby tried to pull away once more, pushing at the unwounded side of his partner’s shoulders. “I don’t want to hurt you even further. Let me finish bandaging you.” He was frowning as leaned back, but a quick jerk of Kotetsu’s arm had him sprawling forward, landing heavily in the other’s lap.

“You’re not going to hurt me. They’re just some bruises. I’m fine,” Kotetsu dismissed. He loosened his grip, settling his hands lightly on Barnaby’s hips, where they remained.

Barnaby’s pulse raced, and he felt an anxiety bubble up within him-- a feeling he hadn’t experienced in a long while. What was he doing? What was he _thinking_. He should just kick Kotetsu out and order him to get some rest in his _own_ home. They couldn’t do this, this was unprofessional. How would they work together if--

“I can _hear_ you worrying,” Kotetsu grumbled, though he was smiling fondly, as if extremely amused. Barnaby glared, though he made no move to leave. He was still tense, ready at any moment to spring away, should the other try anything he didn’t approve of.

“Here, drink.” The brunette held up his now-lukewarm beer, the liquid sloshing around in the dark-green bottle. Barnaby made a face, though he accepted the beverage.

“Trying to get me drunk?” he asked drily, even as he sipped at the drink. Kotetsu snorted, tapping at the bottom of the bottle. “Finish it.” He got a raised eyebrow in response, though the bottle was soon emptied.

“Hm,” Barnaby murmured, leaning sideways to place the bottle carefully on the table. Kotetsu smiled crookedly up at him, thumbs grazing the small sliver of flesh revealed under the hem of his partner’s raised shirt.

Barnaby went rigid, and he moved to stand up. “We shouldn’t--” but the other’s suddenly-tightening grip held him in place. He lowered his gaze to meet his partner’s, even as his heart thudded something fierce.

Kotetsu looked grim, and about as nervous as Barnaby felt. His lips were a thin, tight line, and his jaw was clenched. The moonlight seeping in through the windows threw his angular face into sharp relief, and it struck him just how terribly _young_ Kotetsu looked, despite being a father.

“I know.” The brunette’s voice was low and resigned. He felt a confusing amalgam of emotions assault him-- the most recognizable one being guilt. Guilt and fear for his daughter, for his deceased wife, for the consequences of his actions. He closed his eyes and loosened his fingers, allowing the other to take his leave.

Back stiff with tension, Barnaby felt trapped now that he had been given the opportunity for escape. He was caught between his desire to stay and what he knew would be the better decision to simply get up and walk away.

He wavered, gaze flickering from his partner’s face to the wound, feeling a sense of affection and gratitude and utter, bone-shattering terror.

Barnaby inhaled quickly, then leaned forward haltingly. He closed the distance between them, pressing his lips to Kotetsu’s, fingers light and trembling on the other’s bare shoulder.

Kotetsu remained motionless for several seconds, and it wasn’t until Barnaby began pulling away that he surged up, a desperate, wrecked sound muffled between them. He slid one hand up the blonde’s back, his calloused palm slipping beneath the thin black tee. Barnaby shivered and pressed closer, slanting his mouth over the other’s. He felt the gentle prodding of a tongue against the seam of his lips, and he parted his own. The soft, shuddery moan was nearly inaudible as Kotetsu’s tongue ran along the roof of his mouth.

Barnaby was shaking, one hand clenched and pressed hard against the other’s stomach, and his free hand digging into the muscle of Kotetsu’s unwounded shoulder.

“Is this-- are you okay?” The brunette had pulled away, and was now murmuring against his temple, stirring the soft strands of gold.

“Yes,” Barnaby panted breathlessly, and he dropped his head forward to bury his face within the crook of the other’s neck and shoulder. “No,” he amended himself, voice soft and battered.

“Sorry,” Kotetsu answered, smiling ruefully. He turned his head to press a kiss to the top curve of his partner’s ear, reveling in the way the slender body rocked against his. He let out a soft grunt, gripping Barnaby’s narrow hips and thrusting up, groaning when a flare of arousal fired up his spine.

“We can’t do this,” Barnaby gasped. Even still, he was pushing desperately forward, his cock straining against the front of his pants. He ground against the other, muffling a moan against the back of his hand. He could feel Kotetsu hard and hot beneath him, and he trembled with the knowledge that it was _his_ doing.

His partner didn’t answer, instead curving a large hand beneath his jaw, and jerking his face up to crush their lips together. It was entirely unlike their first kiss, this one all teeth and no finesse. Barnaby jerked and moaned as Kotetsu grazed his lower lip, then bit down sharply and tugged. His fingers scrabbled at the other’s bicep, his other hand moving up to press flat against his chest. The brunette gasped and then growled, moving almost violently. It was only until Kotetsu released him that he realized he’d been digging his fingers into the dark bruises.

Kotetsu pushed and thrusted up against him, like he was fighting, rough and inelegant. It was exactly how he was normally-- powerful, with an unconscious sort of grace. Barnaby could only react, his back arching as he sucked in deep breaths, his thighs squeezing around the other’s waist. He was shaking uncontrollably, and he felt too hot under his clothes. He wanted to be rid of them, to touch skin against skin, but that would require breaking contact.

They moved frantically, relentlessly, colliding against each other in a manner that would seem otherwise painful. Kotetsu dug blunt nails into Barnaby’s back, long, red stripes streaking down the pale flesh. Shuddering, Barnaby let loose a strangled moan as he felt his blood boil and heat pool in his belly. He was panting harshly, and it took all he had not to scream.

“Hah... ah, God,” Kotetsu growled, nearly inaudible, even as his lips were pressed against the other’s ear. Teeth nipped and tugged painfully at the the lobe, and Barnaby suddenly shuddered and curled forward, shoulders rigid, as a broken whimper left his lips. He stifled a cry against his partner’s shoulder as his release left him sweaty and exhausted.

Kotetsu groaned, leaving crescent-shaped indents in Barnaby’s hips as he gripped the other tight and ground up hard, feeling white spots blind his vision. A blend of pain and arousal made him gasp and hiss as his fingers convulsed and he lost himself to his pleasure.

He slowly came back to what he reluctantly recognized as reality, feeling boneless and sticky. He grimaced as he shifted, lifting one hand to flex his fingers. It was then that Barnaby rose up, moving away from him at lightning speed.

“You should-- you should leave.” The voice was cold and distant and-- _pained._

Kotetsu swallowed thickly, his brow furrowing. “Bunny--” He tried teasing, but the other interrupted him. “That is _not_ my name.”

“Barnaby,” he tried again, standing up and resisting the urge to squirm uncomfortably. “Whare you-- don’t just--” He reached out, words fading as his fingers grazed the other’s wrist.

“Don’t _what_ , exactly? _Think_?” Barnaby didn’t turn to face him, but Kotetsu could feel the intensity of the glare either way. He was reeling from the one-eighty the blonde seemed to have taken. It was such a rapid change, and he didn’t think his sex-addled brain could handle it just yet.

“Please leave.” The words were short and bitten-off.

“Barnaby--” he said again, this time stepping forward. But the blonde was already moving out of reach, striding quickly out of the room.

Kotetsu’s arm dropped, and he crumbled back to the floor, left alone with nothing but the moonlight to keep him company.


End file.
